


Fuckboi

by heckaroni



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Bad British Accents, Crack, Fast food worker ends Leon's life, Gen, Horrible Eating Habit, It gets serious for five seconds but that's about it, Leon Says Fuck :0, Leon's leggings, Raihan gets called out too, The leon roast fic you've been waiting for, and short shorts, comedy?, so much cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckaroni/pseuds/heckaroni
Summary: Laurie is working the red-eye shift at Hammerlocke's ever-infamous Cheesy Castle when the Champion walks in. She can't hold her tongue about his... everything.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Fuckboi

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I wrote this first part months ago and I needed to put this out there to start a conversation. For example, just what the actual fuck is Leon wearing? I'm from NYC so I had to write her being from there so I could write what I needed to write properly. So excuse the shitty British accent.

Midnight was the worst hour of the entire day. It was the perfect boundary between the day before and the next. Something always went wrong at midnight as well. Time dimension nonsense or something. Humanity was expected to sleep through this hour perfectly unaware of the madness that occurs then.

Laurie was always awake at midnight for some reason or another. It was the misfortune of being young. No experience means no regularity, stability. No experience means she has to work the red-eye at Galar’s worst fast-food restaurant chain.

Cheesy Castle the monstrosity was called. There were four locations in Hammerlocke, the city where the franchise started apparently. Laurie had the misfortune of not only working the red-eye for the restaurant chain. She had to work at the worst of the four Hammerlocke locations.

It’s a tourist trap. Hammerlocke was the city with the medieval architecture and Raihan’s over-glorified dragon playground. You’re pissed off at your upstairs neighbors drilling on a Sunday morning? You haven’t tried to take a nap during one of his matches. The castles are awe-inspiring but the smelly tourists aren’t. Laurie can’t count how many times she’s run late to work because she has to push through dumb tourists making a “wall of idiots” and blocking the entire sidewalk so they can ogle up a column they can find on PokéSearch.

Laurie didn’t understand why there needed to be four locations. The original one - the fancy, two-floor joint with all of the memorabilia and all that crap - was the one that made all the money in the city. Not the moldy, practically abandoned one in the deserted part of town she was stationed at for the night. The other two locations were at least more centrally located. They could make money to have more employees on a shift, more renovations, all of that cool junk she would never get to see.

Regardless, she was stuck until the morning rush. The only one stuck, might she add. The budget was cut so short that only one person was supposed to run a whole fast food joint for a whole night. She sometimes wondered if she was working the night shift at a gas station, not Creepy Steeple.

No cell phones, no music, no Pokémon, no nothing during the downtime. Laurie had cleaned that table six times already when her watch buzzed. Ah. Midnight again. Another six hours to go. Ugh.

Laurie will have to say fuck it at one point and play games on her phone or something if she wanted to survive. It didn’t matter anyway. She had a feeling her hours were going to get cut back soon - which was the start of the glorious cycle that will eventually lead to her being terminated.

The quiet nearly drove her crazy. She wanted anything to happen at that point. A robbery, an over-partied man and the strange girl he picked up at the bar blowing chunks in the bathroom. Anything at all just to make the clock go faster.

“Uck. Screw it.”

She picked up her bag from under the counter (yes, the restaurant was so bad that they didn’t even have a break and locker room for the employees) and pulled out a Pokéball that had made its way to the bottom of her bag.

“Arsene, come out!”

A Nickit popped out of the Pokéball, let out a long yawn.

“Sorry, sweetie. Can you watch the front for me for a while? I’m gonna clean the back.”

Arsene jumped onto the counter and laid down on it like he was the other cashier for the night. Laurie smiled, thanked him with a little scratch of the fur on his head. The Nickit let out one of his amusing noises, smiled with his eyes.

Laurie grabbed a mop and began mopping down the back of house. Fortunately, nothing gross or questionable was on the floor that day. Some idiot thought it would be a good idea to let his Muck out and ruin the floors during her last shift. She only thanked him for giving her something to do. Beyond that, the task was so arduous that her arms still hurt from it. So she worked painfully slow that evening, making sure to get every nook and cranny just to give her something to do. She even tried to hum a song about it. _Back and forth. Back and forth_ . _Hmm hm Hmm. Hmm hm Hmm._

She finished the task in fifteen minutes. The shortness of time drove her nuts. Why not half an hour or, goodness for god, an hour? 

When she finished, not to her surprise, there still wasn’t a customer in sight.

“Good job, sweetie. Keep on watching, okay?”

Arsene gave her a curt but affirming noise. Laurie sometimes wondered if his yapping would one day turn into actual human speech. It didn’t even need to be her language. It could’ve been Kantonian or something. Just anything would be cool. It would make sense. There were stories about talking, trickster foxes in the stories she was read as a sleepy little girl. Maybe her Arsene would be the one.

Laurie’s front of house cleaning was to occur every hour. During the day, the cleaning was usually every half an hour but the boss knew fuck all weren’t coming in at midnight even during League season. Laurie learned just to do it only after every customer or when she was going nuts from boredom.

Galarians are fat, lazy, and nasty. Her mother would always complain about that to her father when her immediate family first came to the region. Papa would always laugh it off and tell Mama to hush, to not let the neighbors hear her. Laurie figured those were just stereotypes.

Then she started working at Cheesy Castle.

Galarians, especially League fans, will not goddamn clean up after themselves even if there was a gun pointed to their head. So she was always left to clean up the leftover bits of salt, ketchup, mustard, and cheese (obviously) from the tabletops. Sometimes, she would have to throw away trays of finished food because the folks were _that_ rude. Could they not get up, move ten meters over to the trash receptacle and toss out their meal? Was it that difficult? Regardless, Laurie did her job that evening and finished up the tables.

She turned around and—

“Holy shit!”

Laurie nearly jumped out of her skin. Her heart stopped, her pores opened. God, she may have gone white as a sheet on top of all of that.

A man was by the register. Just appeared out of nowhere. Arsene clearly would have been fired on his first day because he would much rather get coos and pets from a stranger than alert his Trainer of said stranger’s presence.

The man turned to her and gave her a lifted eyebrow, his hand still on Arsene’s head.

“Sorry. mate. Ya scared me.”

The man’s mouth did a strange, almost locking thing before he smiled at her.

“It’s fine.”

Laurie shoved the cleaning rag in her back pocket (bad choice) and headed around the counter and stood in front of the computer. She gave him her fakest smile and spoke to him in that saccharine voice she had to learn in training. 

“Welcome to Cheesy Castle, home of Galar’s cheesiest cuisine. What can I get ya?”

Another wince from the man, that time his eyes. But he didn’t respond right away. In fact, he looked like he was still choosing.

Which was fine because it gave Laurie time to process that the fucking Champion of the Pokemon League was standing right in front of her.

Laurie never gave a shit about sports and that did not change when her family came to Galar. But she knew that Leon had power due to sports - a lot of it. So his sudden appearance made her shift from leg to leg, rub her wrist, anything to keep her from standing completely still.

But she had to admit that she didn't know why everyone and their mothers were so obsessed with this man. He dressed like he was the speedy yet tortured child of a race car and a clown car. Was he wearing leggings with shorts in the year of their Arceus whatever the hell it is? And what was up with that thing draped over his arms? How many Thievuls died for his fashion transgressions?

She looked at Arsene and all the blood drained from her face. Would her baby be the next to be sacrificed?

But she blinked. And she realized that she had created the worst thing on the planet - awkward silence. So she got out of her headspace and got rid of the quiet.

“I can give ya time to choose if ya don’t know what ya want yet,” she suggested.

That time, Leon gulped, his teeth clenching. Then he spoke.

“No, no. I know what I want,” he admitted, “I’m just debating whether I should get it or not.”

While playing with her fingers, she suggested, “Do you… want help or somethin’?”

Laurie did not like how squeaky her voice went all of a sudden.

Leon’s eyes lit up, his smile becoming a grin. “Yeah! I’m stuck between a #1 and a #5.”

 _Shit!_ How was she going to help him when she didn’t eat that crap? She never wanted to eat a burger again after working there already. How was she going to help him choose between the world’s greasiest burger or the world’s driest chicken strips? Both come with the world’s droopiest fries and a grand selection of shitty fizzy drinks that will give him diabetes faster than he can say Duraludon.

So she shot for the quickest answer she could shoot out of her ass.

“Both?”

“Both.”

“Yeah.”

“Then both.”

She cocked her head at a slight angle and asked, “Are ya gonna eat all of that?”

Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull. She clenched onto the lip of the counter for life support.

Back where she was from, those were fighting words and not the Pokémon battle, fight-at-first-sight sort of shindig. She meant a fist-fight. Out of the blue too so the fight would be completed warranted.

Her mom was right. She did have not a bit of class in her bones.

But Leon brushed it off. Maybe. He patted his stomach and smiled almost like a little kid as he said, “I’m a big boy.”

Laurie said the letters O and K with the slowness of a Slowpoke. She tapped the screen below.

“Ya want fries wit that?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. What sauce will you be having?”

“Pardon?”

“Wit ya chicken strips.”

His sudden pause to ponder should have given her a clue of what was to come. Because every customer before when asked that question would immediately say “oh, barbecue” or “yeah, ranch”. No one should have to pause for nearly seventeen seconds to figure out just what he was going to dip his dead chickens in.

“Can I get one of each?”

Oh. Oh, she saw. He was one of those. The folks who wanted to be “adventurous”. 

“Sure but any extra sauce before the first two will cost ya.”

“How much?”

“Hm. That’d be 145 Poké each.”

“That’s fine.”

“Alrighty. You want both drinks?”

“Sure. Why not.”

_Oh, he and the bathroom must be best friends, aren’t they?_

“Perfect. Would ya like anything else?”

“Nope. That’s all.”

“Alright. Your total will be 2045 Poké.”

He pulled out his card. Oof. Platinum card. Of course the Champion would have a Platinum card. He tapped the card against the reader. Almost like lightning striking, the transaction went through. It was like the system knew, of course, this bloke could casually blow 2000 Poké on shitty chicken strips. It could _smell_ the bougie from a mile away.

Regardless, the transaction went through and Laurie asked him the customary question about his receipt.

“Nah. Keep it.”

She was thankful Galar had a good enough regional minimum wage. Not great but good. Back where she was from, she would have to wait and see if he was going to skip the tip or not. And she didn’t want to know if he was that kind of man. Because if he was, she would have lost her mind.

Laurie went to the cup holders behind her and pulled out two. She placed them on the counter before Leon.

“Here ya are. Ya can fill ‘em up ov’r there.”

You pointed at the drink station.

“Great! Can I get another though?”

“What?”

“Eh… I’ll pay for it?”

“Sure.”

Leon did just that then headed off to the drink station. As he set the three cups down on top, a rock song played from his back pocket. He pulled out what looked to be his phone and answered the call. While he did, Laurie went and made the food.

No, she didn’t earn double for the double of work she did.

“‘Sup, loser,” Leon exclaimed with a laugh in his voice, “Yeah, you can eat my shorts too… Look, I’m at the Cheesy Castle behind the Vault. Get over here. I feel so bad about wiping the floor with you that I might just pay for your meal… Are you— Fine. Yeah. You can get a toy too. Just get over here already. There’s no one here… Yeah. Really. Not a soul besides the cashier and the world’s cutest Nickit.”

Laurie practically launched the fries into their containers when she heard that last bit. Arsene sat by her leg and yipped at her. 

She whispered, “You’re a cocky little shit, you know that?” 

He gave her something like a smirk. Oh. But he was _her_ cocky little shit so it made a world of difference.

“Yeah, yeah,” Leon finished, “There’s time for selfies later. Get your tuchus over here.”

And Laurie had to stop what she was doing to give him a look of pure disbelief.

Never in her 27 years of life did she hear a person - besides a weird elderly woman - say tuchus before. She felt like she aged forty years just from hearing that word. Tuchus. Just how old was Leon? He couldn’t be even 30 yet. Why was he talking like he was going to bust her kneecap with a cane and call her a whippersnapper? He certainly didn’t dress old-fashioned either so it couldn’t be a hobby. In fact, he dressed like a—

A beep came from the speaker over the frier. Laurie pulled the basket up, launched the chicken strips into their box. She shut it and put a sticker of the cheesy, smiling mascot on the lid. It looked at her with those beady, dead eyes, reminded her that she wasn’t gonna be shit in life. She flipped the box over. She didn’t need to be reminded of her ball-and-chain all the time. With that and the burger done, she placed the two meals on the tray and brought them over to the counter in front.

“Order up.”

Leon was sitting at the table already, Arsene laying on his back, getting tummy rubs from the Champion.

“Hey, get down from there, Arsene!” Laurie even did a down motion with her hand to make her point.

Arsene looked at her and ignored her. But Leon picked him up with one hand, brought him over, and sat him right next to the tray.

“His name’s Arsene?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s stinking cute.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you have any others?”

“Wha— Oh. Yeah. A Morpeko.”

“Wow! How did you catch one of those?”

His eyes shined as he slapped his hands on the counter. Arsene jumped away, cowered near Laurie’s ankles.

“It chose me.”

“Seriously.”

“Yeah. He liked to follow me everywhere I go and I just asked him one day if he wanted to come inside my apartment. He never left.”

“Aw. That’s cute. I had to catch all of my Pokemon except for my Charizard.”

Right. She did remember him having a Charizard. Wasn’t his whole schtick involving Charizards?

“Oh. How many do you have?”

And he looked at her funny. But he answered her question.

“Six.”

“Wow. That must be hell to deal with. I can only put up with this one and Nova—“

“Your Morpeko’s name is Nova?”

“Yes.”

“That’s funny. Why Nova?”

“Supernovas make black holes. Nova’s stomach’s a black hole so—“

That got a soft snort out of him.

“—Nova,” Laurie finished.

“You’re good at naming Pokémon. With my work, you get a whole lot of Fluffy’s and Scaly’s. Not a whole lot of Nova’s and Arsene’s. It’s refreshing to hear. Plus, you’ve trained them very well. Nickits tend to nibble on fingers and hands. But Arsene here can take a pet with no problem.”

Laurie didn’t think she’d be getting a compliment today from the Champion of all people. But she took it with stride. Damn right she trained her fuzzy roommates well.

“Thanks, sir.”

He gave her a questioning look. Then he set his eyes right on her pupils.

“Do you know who I am?” he finally asked.

“No,” she lied.

She had no reason to say she knew who he was. She didn’t give a crap about his existence. Plus, she was still wondering if whoever is responsible for how he looked knew they’re dressing their big celebrity client like a jackass. She didn’t want to cause a fuss over anything. Thus, she lied.

“Oh. That’s… strange.”

“Why? Should I?”

“Y—“

And suddenly a light bulb went off in his head because he was about to say something but the word got caught in his throat and his eyes went all wide. Then he straightened up and grabbed his tray.

“Just curious is all. Thanks.”

Leon headed back to the table where he left whatever that furry mess of his was, slapped his tray down. He opened up the boxes to the food, took a moment to look at the tray. He got up a moment later, headed back to the counter.

“I don’t have my sauce.”

Laurie grimaced. Of course she forgot the sauces when she had no excuse to forget about them. She dove under the counter and pulled out one of each flavor, put them in his hands. She almost grimaced when her ring finger swiped his palm. Sweatier than a preteen. Yuck.

“Thanks.”

And he sat back down.

Laurie cracked her back, decided to mop. She grabbed it and its bucket and rolled it across the floor. She began mopping, noting to not do the section Leon was in until he and whoever he invited left. It wasn’t too difficult of a task. Arsene knew to stay behind the counter while she did so. No other customers came to bother her too. It was a peaceful time.

The peace ended quickly. Because she saw Leon eating.

She thought the third cup was for the person who was coming. No. God, she wished it was for that.

It was for the sauces. He poured them all in the cup, mixed them with a French Fry. He dared to taste the disaster he made, nodded in approval. Then he proceeded to pour some of it into his mouth and shove half of a chicken strip in his mouth.

She thought she was seeing shit at first. Because who in their right mind would do that?

Then he did it again.

She had to face the facts. The Unbeatable Champion of the Galar Pokémon League was eating fried chicken like he poured the milk in his mouth then put the cereal in.

She couldn’t take it. She snapped.

“Apologize to the chicken.”

Leon didn’t realize the cashier was addressing him, not some other customer he didn’t see come in, until she slammed her ass into the chair across from his.

“And the cow too while at it.”

He was gobsmacked. He had gotten so used to being revered everywhere he went. Even the smack talk he got was friendly. But this… This was different.

“W-Why?”

“Because they didn’t deserve to die so some fuckboy could dip them in the sauce cesspool he poured into his mouth— What is _wrong_ with you?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, couldn’t speak.

“What the fuck, man? Why do you eat like— Do you eat everything like this? Do you go to fancy restaurants, order the soup of the day and chug ‘em like a shot?”

“I—“

“And what the hell is up with this beard? Are you wearing your jockstrap on your chin? Because even I know where one of those is supposed to go and you’re _clearly_ not wearing one.”

As if he had never seen what was between his legs before that moment, he took a glance beneath the table, grimaced. He crossed his legs, set his wide eyes back on her.

“I’m the Champion,” he stuttered.

“As if I didn’t fucking know that already, ya bloke.”

“Th— Then why were you acting like you didn’t know who I was?”

“Did ya tip me to care?”

He furrowed his brow. “If this is about a tip—“

“Hell if it’s about a tip. It’s about the fact you eat like a heathen.”

She sat down across the table from him, slammed her elbows on the top, and put her folded hands to her lips like she was going to whisper a prayer into their imaginary ears.

“You already dress like you don’t know how to dress yourself. God, like, you dress like you’re going to go up to the boss behind the counter of your favorite deli, ask him to make you a chopped cheese with no fucking cheese on it. Get out of here with this stupid ass baseball hat. Do you even play baseball?”

She was tempted to snatch the cap off his head but she knew that was like trying to steal a pirate’s hat. Grounds for death. Right off the plank.

“And who the hell says tuchus in this generation? Come the fuck on! Why do you fucking—“

“Is fuck your favorite word?”

Laurie paused, turned her head so fast she gave herself whiplash. She hissed, grasped her neck.

“A-Are you alright?” Leon asked.

“Yeah. Just— Did you just curse?”

“Yeah.”

“You can say fuck.”

“What?”

“Y-You can say fuck. Say it again.”

“No.”

“What? Why?”

“... I’m not giving you or anyone else a chance to record it.”

“Aw, c’mon. No one goes to this Cheesy Castle, especially this late at night. And I don’t give a fuck about you.”

“... Fine. Fuck.”

Laurie squealed. “Holy shit, you’ve got a Postwick accent. That’s hilarious!”

“And you’re not from here, are you?”

And Laurie paused her shenanigans and a chill ran up her spine.

“... Of course I am.”

“Well, you need to do a better accent if you’re gonna lie about it. Your rhythm is way off. Galarian sounds like the words are dancing. Unovan sounds like fists swinging and you sound like you want to kick my arse or something.”

Laurie played with her hands. She turned back to him, looked at the floor. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah.”

“... Shit.”

“See? You say shit without an -e at the end. It’s supposed to be shite.”

“... Shit, shit.”

“Uh, you alright?”

Arsene tugged at her pants with his mouth. Laurie quickly told him to quit it, wiped the fear off her face.

“What is it?”

The fire alarm went off. Laurie shrieked.

The fryer was constantly breaking. That was one of the disadvantages of working at a joint run by a cheapskate. So it was constantly leaking reused oil onto the floor and into the broken freezer (Cheesy Castle’s food was frozen, never fresh) and leaking into the improperly packaged bacon. Bacon fat smokes like mad when burnt. So it constantly caused the fire alarm to go off.

Laurie was constantly considering quitting. But she needed the money.

She ran into the back, saw the bacon was actually on fire for the first time. She grabbed the fire extinguisher, aimed its hose, and let it rip onto the flames. It took a total of four painstakingly long minutes to put the fire out. When it was extinguished, she put the fire extinguisher on the floor and crouched down before it and breathed hard. She kept on telling herself to calm down, to stop shaking. Soon, she did. And soon, she got up and checked if her hijab had fallen off by patting around her scalp and edges. Nope. Not out of place. Thank god.

“You're not supposed to be here, are you?”

She turned around, stared at Leon right in the eye. He leaned up against the steel wall of the burger station like he was trying to be cool or something. In one of his hands was her wallet. In the other was her ID, showing the name of another woman and the wrong placement of the Pokéball on the side.

Fuck.


End file.
